Faithless
by Topgallant
Summary: PreKotOR. One cloudy night, two young and willful Jedi knights choose their destiny amidst the monolithic columns outside of the ruins on Dantooine. My take on Malak's hesitation...and how Revan convinces him, once and for all.


"But…it's not the way of the Jedi! It's not right!" the tall, pale Jedi protested, desperation and fear crawling into his voice, his will dissipating as his notions of order and justice eroded, leaving him barren, bereft of the teachings on which he was raised…

Stripped of all he ever knew.

"Not the way of the Jedi? Not…_right_?" She echoed the young man scornfully, dark eyes alight with a sparkle that danced with sinister glee. "Then what_ is_ right?"

The moonlight seeped through the moody clouds, casting molten silver on her face, shadows playing across the smooth corners of her lips, slithering down her neck and molding into the ground. She was entwined in both shadow and light; the pure, unchallenged epitome of good and evil.

"Right is- is…" the young man struggled for a rebuttal to the female's challenge, her poison creeping steadily into his heart and settling itself there, planting a seed that would blossom with her teachings, shun Jedi wisdom and forge another path; a _new_ path, towards a new goal.

"See, Malak? You can find no excuse, no definition of 'right'. What use has your Jedi training for you now? It's all ancient, rooted in blind faith and stunted ideals that simply fail to exist any longer." Her condescending, cruel smile mocked and haunted him, making him shiver and quake with shame and embarrassment.

_She_ was the only one who could faze him in such a way. She was the only one who knew what made him sweat in cold terror. She could manipulate and twist him any way she pleased, and he'd be helpless. Caught, fluttering, lost within her grasp.

"But I still don't believe in it." Malak breathed, panicked and aware of his faltering resolve, yet still vainly trying to clutch the broken pieces of his shattered faith and stitch them together, trying to cling to the Jedi teachings.

But his faith would never be whole. Not after Revan.

She chuckled softly, a low, content sound. Like a pleased hunter.

"I can sense that you're failing, Malak. Let go. I know that you've wanted to see the truth for years now. I know that you've wanted to break away."

He gasped and turned from her, unable to look upon her countenance any longer.

She laughed now, a light, beautiful and dangerous sound. "Malak, don't preach the Jedi sayings to me again. Don't whimper about what is 'right' and what is 'wrong'." Her voice fell softer, serious and lethal.

"We _both_ know what must be done to save the Republic. It is a dying thing, a creature in its death throws…_we_ must breathe life into it…and then strengthen it for what is to come. We must start preparing now, and by doing _this_," she waved her arm around her, to indicate the monolithic columns among which they were standing, "is the only way we can hope to triumph. Don't lie to yourself. Don't lie to _me_." She hissed.

Malak turned to face Revan, his eyes wide as he gazed down upon her. "You sound so much like her. Kreia's influence surrounds you," he murmured.

Revan shook her head slowly, meaningfully. "It isn't Kreia's influence that you sense. It has nothing to do with her. It never did. She knows that, as you should. This is _me_. Completely."

Malak, still dubious, stated, "This…isn't you. It can't be. I've known you for years, and this isn't you. It…it just can't be."

Dismissively, Revan answered, "You have been blinded, Malak. Blinded and deceived by yourself. You have denied yourself the truth that you strive and hunger for- and soon you will snap. Unless, of course, you finally allow yourself to understand."

Distantly, Malak knew that Revan was fully aware that he had no choice left but to follow her into the darkness, the decent of which she had carefully primed for some time.

Yet, he still wavered, one tattered flag battered and snapping in a furious gale. His innermost workings churned and roiled, and Revan was expecting this one last shred of doubt, this one last rebellion of her apprentice.

In times past, Revan predicted all of the consequences that her actions would lead to; from the very beginning, when things became clear to her, she began to plot, marking all of the possible mistakes and results that could transpire.

Malak was left behind, her partner but also her subordinate. She never officially excluded him from her designs, but it was known to them both that her apprentice never really grasped the full meaning and potential of Revan's intentions.

… And although he was left, forlorn and lost, unaware of the extent of her plans…he was too tired of Jedi lies to resist her. He would stumble blindly after her, thrusting all of his loyalty forward to his master in one desperate act of trust.

Even after all these years, it continued to amaze Malak that his long time friend could instill such complete adoration and worship; it was evident in the eager, open faces of young padawans and even other knights. Him especially.

Revan installed drive and passion into Malak as he had never before known, and let her ideas simmer within him, bubbling with anticipation, yet not quite ready to be unleashed…until now.

Now, when Malak was at the critical moment to decide whether to continue his Sith teachings…or refuse it, failing everything that she had striven for.

At this moment, when his courage failed him, when he wavered from the path of the Dark Side, all of the passion within him surfaced once again, rising and spilling forth, making him finally _understand_, suddenly grasp all that she had endeavored to teach him for so long. This passion stirred deep within his chest, and now he finally saw the _truth_ to her words.

Malak would always have followed Revan, but now he believed in her cause.

He finally accepted all that he shut out, forgotten.

"Yes…" He agreed. "I- I see it. I understand."

A slow, cold smile spread across her face, and Revan led him forward, further towards the entrance of the ruins, halting at the ominous threshold.

"This is where we change the fate of the Republic, and the fate of ourselves," Revan said quietly, eyes still gleaming with the same fire as before. This is where you and I cease to be mere friends, and _this_ is where we become what we must."

She lapsed into silence, patient, expectant.

Malak bowed his head, kneeling before her in obeisance.

"Revan, I am ready."

Receiving no answer, the Jedi knight curiously glanced up…and stared into the face of a Sith Lord.

Darth Revan curiously traced the unfamiliar lines of the mask with her nimble fingers, readying herself to grow accustomed with this new shell.

After an instant of breathlessly still silence, the Force itself quivering and humming with the intensity of the moment, the Dark Lord turned to the entrance of the ruins and stepped into the darkness.

Malak, lost and loyal…followed.

Two faithless Jedi, strayed from the light.


End file.
